The Conversation That Never Happened
by Sirensong24
Summary: What if Rumple had been in a different mood when Gaston came to the castle, and had been willing to let Gaston speak his piece? Takes place during Skin Deep 1X12


A/N-Hey! Thanks to Woubazoid for her edits. Love you dearie!:-) Read and Review!

Rumplestiltskin strode through his castle, heading towards the great entrance way. Really, he thought, who had the nerve to just walk up to the Dark Castle, home of the Dark One and just...knock?

Last time Regina had deigned to visit him, she had lost her temper and destroyed the watcher he kept for such occasions. Perhaps it was time to get around to creating a new one.

Waving a hand at the doors to command them open, he reflected back to the beautiful woman waiting for him in the library. "This better be good," he muttered to himself. "And if it's not..." He paused, and then giggled to himself.

The doors opened, daylight spilling into the dusty entrance hall, and there standing, framed in the doorway was-

Belle's _fiancé_?

Well of all the people he had thought it COULD be, Gaston certainly was not high up on the list. Rumple stepped forward, more into the sunlight, aware how his glittering skin appeared to most people. It terrified them. It was not 'normal' and therefore to be feared. It also added to the legend that he lusted only after gold. He only knew one person who was not repulsed by his skin; and she was waiting for him and this pretty boy was wasting his precious time.

Arching an eyebrow, Rumple pinned Gaston with an annoyed glare, spreading his hands out to the side. Gaston stood there with his sword pointed at Rumplestiltskins chest.

"I am Sir Gaston. And you, Beast, have stolen my fiancée. I have come to rescue her."

Rumplestiltskin was in a lenient mood this day, and instead of blasting him into oblivion, decided to humor the boy. "Oh? And how do you intend to go about doing that? With your pretty sword?" Rumple tilted his head with a crooked smile on his face as the blade of Gaston's sword turned into bubbles.

The hilt clattered onto the ground as a pale Gaston dropped it. "I must save her and return her to her people. It calls my honour into question that I lost my fiancé in such a manner."

Tenting his fingers in front of him, Rumple looked at the man in front of him. A fop would be a more accurate description. For someone who had travelled for so long to get here he had certainly paid meticulous attention to his attire. "If I recall correctly," he said, rolling the 'r', "She _chose_ to leave. You did not lose her, if we are to be technical."

She had. And when that had happened, he had been unable to conceal his laugh of joy at getting his way. But something about how her spine had straightened, as she had told her fiancé that she decided her own fate, about the way she had been bold enough to offer herself to him in exchange for their safety. Over his many long years he had met many kinds of women, but only a handful had been as bold as Belle.

"She has been promised to me since we were children. Surely your castle has been cleaned by now."

"It won't stay that way forever."

Gaston narrowed his dark eyes. "Why did you need a caretaker even? You're nothing but a beast! Beasts should be used to living in filth."

Rumple found that this man was getting on his last nerve. Belle was waiting, their tea would be getting cold, and he wanted to get back to her. "I've lived in filth, and I'll not do it again. Besides, the deal was for forever. Belle... is not leaving."

Gaston narrowed his eyes. "My initial suspicions were correct then. You are looking for a mate. And you think..." Gaston barked out a laugh. "I'm not a fool; I know why you wanted her. But she is a lady. And you're just a beast with a large cage. You really think that she would ever love you?! You've got her trapped now, but it doesn't matter. You can't win her love by making her your prisoner."

_Love_. The word echoed in Rumple's head and the cynical part of him snorted. No woman could ever love him. His sham of a marriage with Milah and the debacle with Cora had taught him as much. But even as he thought of it, warmth began to spread in his heart and through his veins, filling his body.

He shook it off as heartburn. Belle was many things, but a cook was not one of them.

Deciding it was past time to return to Belle, Rumple pointed a finger at Gaston. "I can try..." he sneered, followed by a giggle.

Snapping his finger, he released a burst of magic, and Gaston vanished in a puff of magenta smoke.

Bending to pick up the remains of the fop, he lifted the bloom to his nose and inhaled the flower's lovely scent. He waved his hand again, causing the large doors to slam shut. Turning to make his way back to Belle, he wondered idly if she liked roses.


End file.
